Chapter Text
Atlas woke up at the crack of dawn. It seemed some habits refused to die.
Then again, falling asleep before the sun fully sets tends to have that effect, he admitted as he stretched and yawned. The first rays of sunlight were trickling through the trees, illuminating the branches around him which chafed against his elbows.
“I’m surprised you didn’t hit your snout on a log yet,” a playful voice sounded to his left. He turned to spot her but saw only unassuming foliage.
“Over here!” It switched to his right and so he pivoted there.
“I see youuuu!” She teased again, still out of sight. “When will he ever find me?”
Atlas blinked, shrugged, and curled up for a nap. Three… two… one…
“Hey!” Clover dropped down out of a nearby branch and marched towards him. “Get back up, you’ve slept long enough!”
He peeked out of one eye. “But I found you, so I won. That means I get to sleep.”
The Leafwing must’ve spotted his grin, giving a mock sigh. “Oh well, guess I have to find something else to do. I know– singing!” She leapt on top of his head and cleared her throat, no doubt ready to belch out a screaming tune. Before she could he abruptly stood up, throwing his head back and sending the dragonet careening into a bush.
“Nap’s over,” he pleasantly announced. “Let’s get going.”
“I despise you,” Clover commented. Her intimidation was somewhat reduced thanks to the fat shrub she was stuck in.
Atlas ambled over and helped pull her out, putting her on his shoulder as she grouched. “I love you too, little Leafwing.”
The peninsula encountered at the end of yesterday’s flight was connected to the mainland by a small forest that they’d slept inside. And if his geography served him correctly, it in turn sat due west of the Snarling River – the border to the Poison Jungle.
“Do you want to go flying together again? Once we get out of this forest I mean,” Clover asked before he started walking.
“Without the wind and– hold on, my glider!” He suddenly remembered. “Where is it?”
“Oh, er…” she timidly paused. “I think it blew away last night while we were sleeping. I woke up today and couldn’t find it anywhere.”
By Clearsight, I knew I should’ve tied it to a tree, he scolded himself. “It’s okay. I think we can walk the rest of the distance anyway.”
The Leafwing nodded and went silent, shifting after a moment to hop off beside him. “Then I’ll walk too.” She stayed slightly ahead of him, tracing through paths and scouting out hidden stones for him to follow and avoid. The dragonet’s handling of navigation left him with only walking to do, freeing his mind to wander in a way it hadn’t been able to do yesterday.
It left Atlas with time to think — the anxious kind. There was no point holding it off anymore.
What if I get spotted by Leafwings and get attacked on sight? His half-truth held it off. Then they might refuse Clover entry– but surely they wouldn’t banish a dragonet, right? He spun through the possibilities, calculated the odds, then discarded them out to repeat the worrisome loop. After several cycles one option became clear: if he wanted to avoid the risk of Leafwing warriors, why not remove them entirely? All he had to do was send Clover on her way, here, before they reached the river.
All he had to do was stop and say goodb-
“By Clearsight, where did all these bugs come from?” He scratched his head, feeling it buzz and pop like the lid of a boiling pot.
The Leafwing cocked her head. “But… there aren’t any bugs. They’d be landing on me if that were true- unless they’re going after you specifically?”
You specifically… specifically you. Running away from your fear again, isn’t that true?
“No, no, I don’t think so,” Atlas abruptly put his claws to his sides and acted unperturbed. “It must have been the wind or something. I’m fine,” he reassured a confused Clover and motioned for them to continue. Time passed as the sun climbed higher, melting away the shadows of the trees like the wax below a candle. Eventually they reached the edge of the forest, coming across a wide bed of flat and jagged stones. Traversing the shaky ground left him little room for thought as he carefully traversed it. The dragonet had meanwhile taken to the air, guiding him forward until he stepped on flat grassland.
“We’ve reached the edge of the forest, so where’s the river?” Clover landed beside him. “There can’t be a barren savannah so close to the Poison Jungle! Did Wasp–” her eyes widened, “– did Wasp get here first? Are we too late? ”
“Hush little Leafwing.” He curled his tail around her and consoled, “Remember the armor the Leafwings wore? Most of their equipment is wood, and it has to come from somewhere.”
“I…I guess so,” she calmed down. “I’ll ask the first Leafwing we come across about it.”
“And if we can’t find any?” Atlas looked around, seeing no sign of dragons in front of them.
“Then that’s okay,” the Leafwing replied. “But I’m sure we’ll find someone soon. Come on!” She resumed their walk with an eager pace, and for a moment Atlas thought the dragonet was picking up speed for a flying start. Instead the Leafwing’s gait slowed, going from a gallop to a crawl as she realized he wasn’t following. Finally the dragonet stopped and turned. “Atlas? Why’d you… why aren’t you following?” Her face fell.
“Of course I am!” He raised his wings and glide-skipped over to her, lifting her chin up as she smiled.
Clover’s afraid to say goodbye as well. A revelation as obvious as that shouldn’t have come as a shock, but a morning’s worth of self-worrying left him blindsided to the fact. But it made sense; even with the rest of her tribe, she had to be as afraid as him, right? On cue the dragonet nuzzled against his leg, climbing atop it a moment later.
“Mind if I sit here? If not I can walk or fly just as ea–”
“Not at all,” Atlas eased. By Clearsight, I swear she acted less jumpy when there was a battle on top of us! She really is scared too, he mentally sighed, wondering if it’d be better if the dragonet wasn’t. At least then he could convince himself it was all in his head. The buzzing in his skull was still ringing, and they weren’t in the forest anymore. Even his ears were in on the act!
Wait.
“Do you hear that?” Clover held her breath, hopping off a second later to put an ear to the ground. After a few seconds she pulled away with a disappointed expression, but by then the sound was audible to them both. Bit by bit, the noise he’d first assumed as buzzing disconnected into countless overlapping strokes – wingbeats for sure.
Wingbeats growing louder and louder.
They didn’t need to speak to know what to do; Atlas and Clover ducked into the grass and made for the coast, hiding underneath a patch of tough shrubs that straddled the line between soil and sand. The speed at which they did this left them with almost a full minute of tense waiting, but eventually they saw it.
A pair of green wings flew past them, carrying with it the same green and black banner he saw yesterday. The Leafwing holding said flag swooped low enough to buffet them with a gust, letting them see scarred armor and blackened scales, before they climbed back into the air. A trio of dragons followed the embattled standard-bearer, two of whom were flanking the one in the center. This center warrior soared with a poise unlike the fatigued posture of their companions, head high and tail erect.
Could that be General Linden? If so, that means the rest of the army is close behind… On cue, dozens of Leafwings began to pass overhead. They flew not in tight-knit squads or formalized shapes, but as a single mass of haggard individuals driven by bitter instinct. He couldn’t spot an instance of weapons or armor on most of the dragons, and the ones that did bore the most grievous wounds of all.
Atlas had counted hundreds of green scaled warriors in the battle they’d escaped, but now he wasn’t sure if their numbers even reached the triple digits. The Leafwings hadn’t lost; they’d been destroyed.
He heard Clover fidget as the last dragon crossed over them, throwing the dragonet a quizzical look. She responded, “What? They’ll lead us to the Poison Jungle if we follow.”
“Still, better to keep our distance.” He waited until the army had traveled a bit further before moving, knowing full well he wasn’t doing it to keep them hidden. Three moons, I’m hitting new lows. Every talonstep brought them closer to what was always going to happen – To what was always going to pass. The hypocrisy was not lost on Atlas.
Being alone couldn’t be too bad though; he’d done it for ten years without issue! This journey was just a tiny drop compared to the river of time before. What could a measly drop affect?
Enough to make the whole stream undrinkable. He stopped with the false optimism and focused on keeping pace with Clover on the uneven grassy terrain. The soil here was pockmarked with mounds and troughs in the dirt, some of which revealing brittle roots barely peeking out into the light. He nearly found the time to think more about it before the dragonet stopped in front of him, putting a talon to her snout as he slowed.
“Over there,” she shushed, pointing to a spot where the grass parted over the beach. Atlas poked his head through and looked around, until his eyes widened.
On the shoreline, between the waves and sand, a lime-green Leafwing sat with wings wrapped tight. And not just any Leafwing, a warrior – if the dropped spear on the side was any indication.
“ Why isn’t that one with the rest of the army? ” He whispered back.
“I don’t know.” She backed away. “Should we keep going?”
Atlas nodded, and so the two continued. They kept a healthy distance from the edge of the beach, but it did little to stop the muffled sobs that came from its direction. He did his best to ignore them and carried on; expecting they’d be clear of the dragon soon.
What he didn’t expect was to be assailed by a long, agonizing scream
“GRAAAAAH!” A heart-shattering wail erupted from the stricken Leafwing as they suddenly stood up, heaping sand over their wings and claws over his horns. Then the warrior lunged into the ocean and stayed submerged, their only trace a stream of bubbles floating to the surface. A quick glance at Clover saw the dragonet’s face growing taut, eyes a glittering window to worry and… understanding?
Understanding. The patch of sea above the Leafwing whorled into a foamy white. It burst when they re-emerged in a shower of stinging salt, trailing like mist as the dragon stalked back to land. It let Atlas get a better look at the numerous scars criss-crossing his scales, leading up to an expression curled in pain. It abruptly ducked to the ground as his claws gripped the spear lying nearby.
“Tree Spirits CURSE this war!” He threw the weapon – directly at them.
Atlas’s eyes widened but it was Clover who acted first. The dragonet grabbed him by the talons and pulled hard, yet the instincts from his antenna told him it wouldn’t be enough. So he tilted his wings and beat them once, enough to send them crashing to the floor moments before a frightening whizz whistled overhead.
A long second dragged on, followed by another. Did he notice us? A chilling silence had fallen over the air, making every inhale unbearably loud. He steadied his breath the best he could and hoped they weren’t spotted.
They were.
“Who– who’s there? Show yourself, I know someone’s hiding in the grass!” A series of talonsteps followed the Leafwing’s accusation, growing louder with each step.
How close is he? Atlas nudged Clover. Laying on the side, she pressed an ear to the dirt to no avail. But the dragonet did detect his trembling talons, and perhaps that was what hardened her resolve. The dragonet took a deep breath, stood up, and scurried onto the beach.
“Sorry, sorry, my bad!” She squeaked, carefully moving to the side so that the warrior’s gaze didn’t fall on him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Well you did. You realize Hivewings could be skulking around, right? We didn’t do well enough in the battle to feel safe here,” the Leafwing’s voice lowered, tinged with a suspicious edge. “Say, do I recognize you from somewhere?”
“Who? Me?” Clover innocently asked, following with a flurry of rapid sentences. “That’s not possible. I don’t remember you from anywhere. Maybe that battle you’re talking about made you tired. Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your army?”
“Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your tribe?” The dragon parried her into silence. “And yes, the battle was brutal. But I see you’re a dragonet, and dragonets don’t make such loud landings,” his tone turned cold. “So why don’t you ask the other one to come out?”
Oh no. Atlas froze as the Leafwing whipped his head back to the spot he hid in. Has he seen me this whole time? Was he just playing along? Three moons, please let him not be another Lasius – but what if he is? Clover’s right there! What if he does something like that Hivewing did?
His panic ended only when the warrior sighed and turned around, trotting a couple of paces away before comfortably sitting down. “Fine then, stay hidden. I’ve fought and won against enemies braver than you, should you try and attack. And when I tell the rest of my army that a suspicious dragon is lurking in the grass, how long do you think you’ll last? We won’t be kind if you’re recognized as a traitor . In fact,” he stood up, “there’s nothing stopping me from flying to tell them now. Good luck when that happens.”
I’ll need all the luck I can get. “Wait!” Atlas called before the dragon took flight. He left the grass and slowly stepped onto the beach with the confidence of a cornered mouse. “That won’t be necessary.”
A shocked silence swallowed all sound for several suspenseful seconds. Then the other claw dropped.
“For forests’ sake– a Silkwing spy!? ” The frills on the Leafwing’s back shot up, as did the rest of his scales. In a matter of moments the warrior was airborne, gaining altitude until his light green scales blurred into the sky. Atlas thought he’d then steer inland to alert the others, until the shape high above stopped getting smaller…
…And started growing larger.
A surge of terror took hold of his limbs, yelling for him to bolt into the grass, to shove aside swathe after swathe of foliage in a desperate bid for survival. They wanted him to run and flee. They wanted him to cower and hide and be, as much as possible, safe. So he did.
Atlas sprinted into the ocean, struggling through wave after wave as the endless ocean filled his view. Behind him he heard Clover yelling “Stop!” Whether that was meant for him or the Leafwing, he didn’t know. He doubted either of them would’ve listened.
But the more I swim, the longer she’ll have to escape. She isn’t a traitor, so I’ll make sure she won’t be punished as one. He grimly looked up, noticing for the first time how sharp the descending Leafwing’s talons were. The water would surely blunt their edge, and if he could drench the dragon’s wings then they wouldn’t be able to fly for reinforcements. All he had to do was get the timing right.
Is this how Dammara felt when she sacrificed herself? Even now he entertained heady thoughts. I should tell her and Kapok that Clover made it. Clearsight knows it’ll make them happy. If my plan fails, at least I’ll be going to them soon…
“I SAID STOP!” A loud scream caught him off guard. It was Clover, soaring low over the waves as fast as her wings could take her. Abruptly the little Leafwing turned and rose, speeding directly in front of the warrior’s hawklike swoop.
“No!” It was Atlas’s turn for his words to have no effect as the dragon’s murderous descent stalled, then aborted through a last-second roll. But it was too little too late, and he could only watch while the warrior’s arcing tail struck Clover across the head.
The little Leafwing floated for a moment, then began to limply fall.
Clover! He fought the ocean to be the first to reach the spot where she’d land but the hungry waters gleefully pushed him back and back, keen on claiming their plummeting prize.
“CLOVER!” Atlas’s roar should’ve split the sea across a hundred wingbeats; instead it let a mouthful of water choke down his throat. By the time he’d recovered, he knew it was too late to reach the tiny dragonet’s falling shape. All he could do was see the end.
But what he didn’t expect to see was the warrior diving in close pursuit. Half-dazed in the water, he watched the dragon’s wings tuck themselves in, gaining a burst of velocity to help hurtle down towards the dragonet. And with a move that could have only been possible through years of honed instinct, the Leafwing flew under Clover and banked sharply up, grabbing her in one swift motion. A plume of sea spray heralded their ascent before they soared back to the solid ground.
Atlas caught up to them a minute later, him and Clover embracing the moment he reached land. “Thank Clearsight you’re alright.” He nestled the dragonet between his arms, neither content to separate just yet.
“You’re welcome,” the Leafwing remarked, observing them some distance away. The suspicion in the warrior’s eyes had been replaced with a warmth that softened his features. “And for the record, you’re a terrible spy.”
“What good is a spy who can’t fly away?” Atlas turned to show him his back, and the two wings missing on it.
“Yeah! Why would Wasp send an injured dragon?” Clover added as the warrior put up a claw.
“You’ve convinced me, don’t worry,” he relaxed. “What’re your names?”
“I’m Clover.”
“And I’m Atlas,” he answered. “You?”
“My name’s Sumac,” the Leafwing tipped his wings. “Warrior in General Linden’s army.”
“Sumac,” Clover pronounced. “Thank you for catching me.” He smiled and gestured to the grass. Soon the three were walking and talking as their scales began to dry.
“It’s not often that a Silkwing and Leafwing travel together. Must be quite the story for you two to come all the way from… the west side of Pantala?” Sumac whistled. “By the trees, what a journey.”
“We were helped out by the wind,” Atlas humbled. “It alone must’ve pushed us half the distance.”
“And all that, just to get you back to your tribe.” The Leafwing faced Clover with a somber expression. “I’m sorry about what happened to your camp at Beetle Lake… I understand what it’s like to lose a home.” The pain in his voice was practically audible.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what was your home like?” The dragonet asked, tail wrapped around Atlas’s neck as she sat on his shoulder. “Maybe talking about it will make you feel better.”
Sumac chuckled. “Some things are best kept to oneself, but if you really want to know, my home was in a willow forest to the far south of here. I was only a dragonet, but I still remember their size. They would’ve put the hives to shame!”
“What happened to it?”
“Little Leafwing!” Atlas scolded her for asking such an abrasive question.
Sumac calmed them both, though his face had hardened around the mouth. “Like I said. Some things are best kept to oneself.” He stopped and crouched down, shuffling through the grass before picking up the spear thrown earlier.
It went that far? He marveled, noticing again the scars which coated the Leafwing’s scales. Sumac said he remembered his home as a dragonet… meaning that was when the war started for him. Three moons, he must be a veteran by now.
“Sorry,” the dragonet sullenly murmured. “It’s only that covering it up won’t help.”
The Leafwing gently held her head in his talons. “Repressing bad memories isn’t the same as not talking about it. What matters is admitting it to yourself, even if that acceptance is silent. Understand?”
After a moment, Clover slowly nodded. “You know, I think you’d be a great teacher. By the way– do you have leafspeak too?”
“ Too? ” He boggled. “No kid, I can’t control plants.”
“Control?” Atlas interjected. “I don’t understand, I was told leaf speakers could only listen to plants.”
“They can do both,” Sumac corrected. “Our General has it, and I’ve seen her take on dozens with that power. Maybe the dragons who told you that were wrong– I doubt we’ve had the time to preserve our tribe’s books. So unless you can summon vine whips from the ground, you don’t have leafspeak.”
“Oh.” Clover’s eyes casted inward. Atlas scrutinized what that meant–
–when suddenly the air echoed with the sounds of faint roars. Sumac immediately whipped his head around and muttered something under his breath. “Follow me!” He broke into a tight jog. Atlas and Clover struggled to keep up with his stiff pace until the Leafwing stopped them both. “If you want to come closer, be very stealthy. I have to rejoin the army.”
“Why? What happened?” He questioned.
The warrior flew into the air. “I think Queen Sequoia just found General Linden.”
Sumac traveled out of earshot after his ominous prediction, leaving Atlas and Clover to find the answer for themselves. They trotted crouched through the grass, noticing how sloped more and more downwards the further they went. This pattern was broken by a small knoll in front of them, blocking the view past it. He carefully peeled over it…
… And found the Snarling River at last.
“By the trees,” Clover breathed, “it’s huge. ”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “We’re so far away, but the river still stretches across the horizon.”
The dragonet cocked her head. “The river? I meant the jungle. Look!” She pointed to the Poison Jungle on the other side.
To call the jungle ‘huge’ was an understatement. A veritable mountain of foliage covered the land all the way up to the water, the tops of which glimmered emerald green from the sunlight coming off the treetops before quickly sinking into darker hues of black and brown not even halfway to the surface. The shadows in the lowest levels gave the impression of a massive leviathan lurking in the undergrowth, its tendrils hiding the rest of the forest from prying eyes.
I wonder what’s inside there. Atlas caught his thought too late; one idea led to another, and an instant later came the painful reminder that he never would know. The Leafwings would never let him into their home – their last home. ‘
But Clover will. And then our paths will separate.
He found himself looking away from the jungle, his gaze crossing the river to settle on the village of tents that’d sprung up on its banks. The Leafwing army must’ve set up camp here, although the accompanying hustle and bustle was nowhere to be seen. Every soldier had their faces turned upwards as the answer to why clashed overhead.
Or rather, answers; locked in a furious shouting match, General Linden and Queen Sequoia raged against each other.
“It has to be Queen Sequoia. I can see her crown from here.” Clover didn’t take her eyes off the scene as what looked like royal bodyguards and army officers squared off below and around their respective leaders. The regular soldiers, meanwhile, slowly started to split between their general and their queen. Most drew ranks the former, but a sizable minority gathered instead on Sequoia’s side. Squinting his eyes, he noticed Sumac in the second group.
Perhaps the movements of their subjects was what alerted the two leaders of their actions; the roaring silenced at once, replaced with a staring contest the nature of which Atlas couldn’t make out at his distance. And what even was the reason behind it all?
Clover thought the same thing, giving her answer as a tense stand-off emerged within the army. “Remember yesterday, how that battle seemed to come out of nowhere? What if General Linden’s attack was against orders?”
“I think so too.” He mulled it over. Dammara and Kapok were acting on royal commands to stealthily sabotage one of the bridges. It’d make no sense for the queen to then suddenly pivot and attack a minor town. He wondered if a fight would erupt among the Leafwings.
What happened instead was that Queen Sequoia flew high and to the left, followed by her guards and a solid third of the gathered army who first disassembled their tents in short order. General Linden dipped right and touched down with the remaining dragons, packing up their half of the camp as well. It led to a minute where, tents rolled and supplies packed, both sides watched each other slowly drift apart. Then the minute passed, and both groups flew in separate directions into the Poison Jungle.
But one dragon lagged strangely behind, and descended rapidly before his group’s Queen had crossed the river. Atlas took it as their que to approach, finding Sumac sitting by the shoreline. The Leafwing was gazing into the jungle, an unreadable look on his face.
“They say the Poison Jungle’s as deadly as it is beautiful. Rumor has it that there are plants that can eat dragons whole.” He turned to face them. “But it still beats fighting this war– Queen Sequoia can see that.”
“Is that why you were following her instead of Linden?” Clover asked.
Sumac nodded. “It turns out our Queen had told our general to abandon fighting days ago. Imagine my surprise when I heard her yell that at the top of her lungs,” he dryly chuckled. “But I understand Linden, and the dragons who followed her. We all want revenge on the Hivewings.”
“I know.” The dragonet sat beside the warrior, watching the river carry on. “But I also want a new home, one I won’t lose again.”
“I can help you with that, Leafwing.” Sumac stood up. “It shouldn't take long for the two of us to rejoin the main group, and I’ve had enough of war.” With that he flew into the middle of the river, hovering patiently midair. “Follow me.” But Clover didn’t follow. She even took a step back, glancing back towards the rest of the continent.
Towards him.
“Little Leafwing,” Atlas’s voice seized as he hurried beside her, holding the dragonet in his claws before she could take another step. “I…We…We should say goodbye.”
Clover said nothing; instead she began to cry. He joined in and hugged her tighter. Everything they’d survived, everything they’d endured, its conclusion had come at last.
“I’m going to miss you,” he managed in between sobs, falling silent when he noticed the dragonet trying to say something.
“I-I…” Clover swallowed, “I didn’t think I’d be so sad.”
“Me neither, little Leafwing. Me neither.”
“Would we’d been better off if we hadn’t traveled together? Then we wouldn’t be crying here like this.” Her next response threw him for a loop. He loudly harrumphed and sternly tapped her forehead.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” Atlas smiled when Clover caught his talon.
“No.”
“No,” he agreed. “And when you reach the Leafwing home, plant a tree for me there if you can.”
“But you’re not dead,” she bit his talon.
“Then how about a small shrub, something to remember me by. Ooh I know– a yam!” He caused Clover to giggle, relishing the moment. It made him notice the flute tied around her neck, giving him an idea.
“On second thought, mind if I see this?” Atlas brought the string free over the dragonet’s head, examining the object in the light before bringing a talon tip to its end. Then he started to scrape, carving line after line while being careful not to damage the original engravings. Once finished he returned it to Clover and waited for her response.
“You made… triangles?”
“They’re mountains,” he corrected.
“Oh– oh yeah!” She brightened. “Like the ones near your home!”
“Not anymore.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide as Atlas put her down, seeing Sumac gesturing for him to hurry up.
“I’m not going back to my farm where I can ignore Pantala again. I’m going to one of the hives.”
“And do what there?” Clover dumbfounded.
“The same thing you’re going to do: plant trees. You gave me the idea back when we were with Anansa, remember?”
She huffed.“That isn’t what I meant… but if you really are going to go resist Wasp, you need a cool code phrase.”
“A code phrase?” Now Atlas didn’t understand.
“To communicate with like-minded Silkwings! How about– ooh!” She straightened. “The seeds will grow again.”
“That’s…” he smiled. “That’s amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” she preened.
“It’ll be my way of remembering you, little Leafwing.” He nuzzled her snout and pointed to Sumac. “Now, let’s not keep our friend waiting.”
Clover nodded but didn’t move. Before he could react she barreled into his side and wrapped around him. He leaned into their embrace one last time, letting the tears fall freely.
“Goodbye, Atlas.”
“Farewell, Clover.” With excruciating slowness he raised his little Leafwing and placed her on his shoulder, feeling her legs kick into his scales as she took off into the sky. The dragonet joined Sumac and crossed the river together, disappearing into the jungle a moment later.
After several minutes of watching the spot they left into, Atlas sat down and beheld the world around him.
Below, small insects trundled beneath the grass. Above, a beautiful sunset emerged as the late afternoon melted into a proper evening. And between these two extremes, he remembered.
Sweet Mauve and steadfast Annulet… Kite and Birdtail and Iris… brave Viceroy and cheerful Swallowtail… confident Dammara, fierce Kapok, and noble Anansa. For those gone and those still here, I have work to do.
Atlas stood up and stretched his joints, facing the vast plains between him and the nearest hive. He took a deep breath, then another, then took his first step.
It would be a long walk.